


Some Stupid Prank

by ElementalGhosting



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Scar, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Bad Ending, Gen, Griangst, I'm Bad At Tagging, Permadeath, sad grian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementalGhosting/pseuds/ElementalGhosting
Summary: Grian and Scar get into a fight.
Relationships: Charles | Grian & GoodTimesWithScar
Comments: 18
Kudos: 152





	Some Stupid Prank

Scar stormed out of Larry and jumped off the ladder, red in the face from anger. Grian followed him down carefully, looking scared. He wrung his hands nervously, trying to figure out the best way to explain his situation to the other.

The builder was too distracted to even steal his neighbor’s front door. 

“I thought that you didn’t use that storage system anymore! You have to believe me!” he pleaded, trying to catch up to the enraged terraformer. 

“You shouldn’t have done it if you didn’t know for sure,  _ Grian _ ,” Scar growled, walking deeper into the jungle to get away from his shadow.

He couldn’t see the expression of the builder behind him, but the terraformer imagined that it was upset. “I’m so sorry, Scar! Please—”

“What kind of sick person thinks that blowing up people’s chests with TNT is fun?” The wizard whipped around and prodded a finger at the other man’s chest. “Months of gathering resources, all wasted, thanks to you!”

“I know, I know. I’ll get everything back, I swear. Just please calm down!” He earnestly reached out and grabbed one of Scar’s hands in his own, pulling it close to his chest. 

Scar ripped his hand free, the hatred in his eyes making Grian shrink away. “There is nothing left to  _ get back _ ,” he spat out. “I’m never getting all of those resources again.”

He glared daggers at the builder, suddenly shoving him aside and heading back in his snail’s direction. They didn’t realize it, but they both wandered fairly deep into the jungle. 

Grian chased after him, desperation written all over his tone. “I can get it all back! P-please, just listen to me!” He tried to keep his voice calm and unwavering even though he felt like bursting into tears.

Scar had gotten mad at him before, like during that troll with the zombies, but he was never this mad. This was new. 

_ This was scary.  _

“I don’t want to listen to you!” Scar yelled from the top of the ladder, loudly slamming his door shut. Grian flinched at the noise but continued to follow after his neighbor, climbing back into the shell of the snail. 

“But, Scar—“

“No, this is serious! Those were all of my valuables from the beginning of the season that you just permanently destroyed!”

“Again, I’m so sor—“

“ Forget it .” His voice turned steely. “I don’t want to hear you talk.”

“No, wait—“

** “Get out of my  _ fucking _ house.” **

Grian froze. Scar  never swore. Not at humans, animals, or even inanimate objects. The dirty word that exited the wizard’s mouth was a sign for how far Grian went with his so-called prank, especially since Scar showed no signs of taking anything he said back. 

The terraformer heard the steady footsteps behind him falter and turned around, noticing the frail, teary-eyed builder stop at his front entrance. His heart broke. 

“Do  not look at me like that. This is all just a joke to you, isn’t it? A funny troll, maybe, that you’ve conducted for your own sick amusement?” shouted Scar, boiling in resentment. Grian visibly winced, backing towards the door. 

That was good, right? Scar needed some time away from his neighbor anyways. 

** “We’re not friends anymore, Grian. I fucking _despise_ you.” **

The builder couldn't take the yelling anymore, the anger seeping out of the wizard’s mouth and the hurtful words stabbing at his very soul. 

He ran, slamming the door behind him and jumping off of Larry the snail’s platform, not caring about the damage that he took from falling. 

Scar was one of the best things in his life, and he had screwed it up as he had with all of his other friendships in the past. 

When you hear someone you respect... no, someone you truly love belittling you, it creeps into your mind, taking advantage of all of those fears and insecurities you hide so well. Innocent statements turn into subtle threats, swears into unfiltered loathing. 

And Grian couldn't take it. 

His mind couldn't deduce what was real and what was fake. Did Scar really mean all of the stuff he said? All over some stupid troll that went wrong? 

The builder’s legs felt numb from running through the jungle, tripping over stray sticks and getting whacked in the face with vines. He desperately panted, clawing for any oxygen that he could draw from the cold air. His lungs stung with every breath he took and he had a cramp in his side from the sprint. 

Grian didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn't run anymore. He had to stop. 

There he stood, lost in the jungle, his only source of light being the full moon hanging over him. He tried to calm himself, looking up at hovering pale orb and trying to push his spiraling thoughts to the back of his mind. 

  
  
Maybe that's why he didn't see all of those monsters creeping out of the shadows when he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Sadly, the moon wasn’t a reliable light source when it came to mob-proofing.

An arrow pierced through his stomach and Grian yelled out in pain, dropping to his knees as his legs failed to support his weight. 

There was nothing he could do about the hissing noise that came from behind him, the creeper exploding and blowing a large crater in the ground, leaving Grian, bloody and almost unconscious, in the middle of it. 

The builder was hurt badly and required immediate medical attention. A trickle of blood ran down the back of his head, dripping down his neck. He slammed his head against a tree when he fell, the crack of his skull on the solid wood not doing any favors to his aching body. 

He landed on his right leg, the limb folded at an unnatural angle. Were his toes... supposed to point that way? He felt queasy but shrugged it off. 

And then again, there was the problem of the arrow in Grian’s stomach. It was bleeding a lot and hurt to touch, so he made no move to pull it out. Without the arrow, the bleeding would just get worse. 

He was already starting to feel lightheaded, stars and black spots dancing in front of his eyes and threatening to claim his vision. 

Tears streamed down his face. 

Everything burned. 

"Scar," he choked out, groping around for his communicator. It landed a few feet away in the crater and wasn’t too damaged, thankfully.

With blurry, spotted vision, he found Scar’s contact in his communicator. The man was closest to his location in the jungle and would be the first one here in case of an emergency. 

With a shaking hand and bloody fingers, Grian selected the wizard’s contact on the screen. 

_ Ring...  _

_ Ring...  _

_ Ring...  _

_ Ring...  _

_ Ring...  _

_ Ring... _

After almost fifteen seconds of the repetitive noise, a chipper voice spoke out of the communicator’s speaker. "Hello, GoodTimesWithScar here! If this is an urgent matter, please leave a message after the beep!" Grian could feel his consciousness slipping but he pulled himself together. He knew that if he fell asleep now, he wouldn’t wake up again. 

The builder waited for the tone to come, wishing that Scar had made a more concise automated message. 

He heard a loud beep. 

Grian opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He found it difficult to inhale, and the arrow in his stomach made every breath he took feel even more painful.

He began to speak in a raspy voice. 

"S-Scar...please come get me. I- I... was blown up by a—“ he gave a weak cough. “— a creeper. P-please..." 

He hit the button to end the call and took a shuddering breath, his eyes threatening to flutter closed. 

The builder’s head gently hit the dirt. The unusual texture felt nice against his cheek. 

Grian forced himself to continue calling him and making those stupid voicemails. He didn’t know how many he made before he blacked out, and frankly, he didn’t care. As long as the terraformer got his message soon, he was safe. 

As he lay bleeding out on the jungle floor, Grian thought that he had never felt so alone. 

~~~~~

Scar’s communicator wouldn't stop buzzing with calls and he was sick of it. Usually, he welcomed anyone to chat, but when the wizard saw Grian’s name on the screen he couldn’t help but turn a blind eye. 

His phone calls only served to remind Scar of the fight, which made him feel worse than he already did. 

Could you blame him, really? What kind of psychopath blows up your entire storage system as a prank?

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts. It was late, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He would deal with all of his problems tomorrow when he was well-rested and got a good seven hours of sleep. 

~~~~~

Scar jerked awake, breathing heavily and swiveling his head around the room. Judging by the position of the moon outside of his window, it was almost five in the morning. 

There was something wrong, he could feel it. 

The first thing he did was turn on his communicator, which was powered off and set on vibrate. 

His eyes widened. 

_24 missed voicemails._

This was obviously a serious matter, and Scar mentally facepalmed for not getting to these messages sooner. Not bothering to get dressed in his signature wizard's outfit, the terraformer sat down at his crafting table in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. 

Coughing filed through the speakers, followed by a hoarse, raspy voice. If his communicator didn't say that it was Grian speaking, Scar would have never known. 

“S-Scar... please come get me...”

The wizard listened to every single voice message, each one getting progressively more serious. Grian told of what happened over the phone, how he was badly injured in an encounter with a couple of mobs. How he doesn't know where he is, only that there’s a big jungle tree nearby. 

Scar tapped through them anxiously, and he was listening to the last one before he knew it. 

_3 hours ago._

"I-I can't... stay awake anymore... I'm sorry... about that dumb fight, I’m sorry about b-blowing up your resources—“ A bout of violent coughing and a gasp of pain interrupted his neighbor’s monologue. “I’m sorry for h-how I treated you... I was a horrible person. I hope y-you can forgive me someday...” 

Scar clenched the communicator in his fist, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill. "Anyway, I hope you k-know... you're one of the greatest people I’ve ever met.” There was shuffling on the other end, then Grian’s voice came through for the last time, fainter than ever. 

“I love you, bro." 

~~~~~

That was it. 

Those were the last words that the wizard had ever heard from his neighbor. He tried to contact Xisuma, Stress, anyone who could help, but by the time they found Grian, he was... gone. 

All because Scar was too upset to pick up his calls. 

_All because of some stupid prank._

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited!
> 
> Listen, I just wanted to make someone die... please don’t kill me.
> 
> Could be seen as Grian/Scar if you want, I guess.


End file.
